The Invisible Presence

At the edge of the woods, the ancient cottage stood by itself, encircled by overgrown shrubs and long grasses that, when the wind picked up, murmured secrets. Mira's grandma had inexplicably died a few months prior, leaving her with the cottage.

She loved the cottage, and she remembered going there every summer vacation, but now there was something different about it, colder, as if the walls themselves held secrets.

Mira arrived late on a Friday evening, determined to spend the weekend going through her grandmother's possessions. The wooden planks creaked under her weight as she entered.

The scent of dust, age, and something else she couldn't quite place was pervasive in the air. She ignored the cold and started looking around the comfortable but strange room.

Discerning antiques and ancient photos in the darkened living room, Mira felt a strange sensation prickle at the nape of her neck. It appeared as though someone was standing just out of sight and observing her.

She took a quick look around, but nobody was there. With a trembling giggle, she consoled herself, "It's just my nerves." "It's starting to get to me here."

As the hours went by, darkness descended upon the cabin. Mira made the decision to go to bed and end the day. She went up the rickety staircase to her childhood bedroom in the attic.

The room was filled with long shadows as the moonlight entered through the small window. She couldn't get rid of the sensation that she wasn't alone as she tucked the covers tightly over herself and went to sleep.

A tiny sound, almost like a whisper, woke her as she was about to fall asleep. It emerged from the room's corner. With her heart racing, Mira sat up and paid close attention. Once more, it was there—a quiet mutter that sounded like someone calling her name.

When she turned on the bedside lamp, its feeble light failed to dispel the gloom, but it was empty. She asked herself out loud, "Am I imagining things?" as she attempted to persuade herself that the old house was merely tricking her.

She tried to fall back asleep, but she couldn't. A few moments afterward, despite the window being closed, she felt a chilly breeze caress her cheek. The sensation lasted, making her skin prickle as though someone was reaching out to touch her.

Anxiety erupted throughout her. She was aware that she needed to take action, any action, to overcome this nagging fear.

In a desperate attempt to discover an explanation, she took her flashlight and started looking around the house. A sharp coldness struck the air as she came down the steps, and then she saw it: a barely perceptible form in the shadows. It appeared to float close to the hearth, akin to a vaporous figure, disappearing as soon as she looked at it.

Mira felt her heart quicken. Her voice faltered as she screamed, "Who's there?" There was silence, dense and oppressive, and no answer. She gently retreated, but as she did so, the air appeared to get thicker, as if something unseen were closing in on her and silently tracking everything she did.

The silence was broken abruptly when a picture tumbled from the mantel. As Mira picked up the frame, her breath caught. It was a photo of her grandma, grinning broadly as always, but there was something strange about it: a strange, ghostly apparition that she had never seen before stood behind her.

Mira felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw that the figure resembled the hazy form she seen just seconds before. Is it possible that her grandmother's last days were not spent in solitude? Was anything, or someone, really with her now?

The air became even colder before she had chance to think more, and the whispers returned, louder now, through the silence. "Mira..." The voice seems to arrive at once from nowhere and everywhere.

Frightened, Mira sprinted towards the front door and struggled with the lock. She only once looked back as she threw it open and fled into the night. She saw the dim silhouette through the glass again, standing where she had just moved, staring at her with a look that appeared to be piercing the very darkness.

Mira never went back to the cottage afterward. However, on occasion, when the wind whispered through the trees in the dark of night, she could still feel the icy touch of the unseen presence. She knew that this presence was still quietly waiting for her in the shadows of that ancient home at the edge of the woods.